Tales of the Five Towns eBook

Her voice expanded into large capitals because by
a singular chance both the neighbouring orchestras
stopped momentarily together, and thus gave her shout
a fair field. The effect was startling. It
startled Ellis. He had not for an instant expected
that she would consent. Never, dog though he
was, had he armed a girl out on any afternoon, to say
nothing of Sunday afternoon, and Knype’s Wakes
Sunday at that! He had talked about girls at
the club. He understood the theory. But the
practice——­

The foundation of England’s greatness is that
Englishmen hate to look fools. The fear of being
taken for a ninny will spur an Englishman to the most
surprising deeds of courage. Ellis said ‘Good!’
with apparent enthusiasm, and arranged to be waiting
for her at half-past two at the Turk’s Head.
Then he left the saloon and struck out anew into the
ocean. He wanted to think it over.

Once, painful to relate, he had thoughts of failing
to keep the appointment. However, she was so
jolly and frank. And what a fancy she must have
taken to him! No, he would see it through.

IV

If anybody had prophesied to Ellis that he would be
driving out a Wakes girl in a dogcart that Sunday
afternoon he would have laughed at the prophet; but
so it occurred. He arrived at the Turk’s
Head at two twenty-five. She was there before
him, dressed all in blue, except the white shoes and
stockings, weighing herself on the machine in the yard.
She showed her teeth, told him she weighed nine stone
one, and abruptly asked him if he could drive.
He said he could. She clapped her hands and sprang
off the machine. Her father had bought a new mare
the day before, and it was in the Turk’s Head
stable, and the yardman said it wanted exercise, and
there was a dogcart and harness idling about, and,
in short, Ellis should drive her to Sneyd Park, which
she had long desired to see.

Ellis wished to ask questions, but the moment did
not seem auspicious.

In a few minutes the new mare, a high and somewhat
frisky bay, with big shoulders, was in the shafts
of a high, green dogcart. When asked if he could
drive, Ellis ought to have answered: ‘That
depends—­on the horse.’ Many
men can tool a fifteen-year-old screw down a country
lane who would hesitate to get up behind a five-year-old
animal (in need of exercise) for a spin down Broad
Street, Hanbridge, on Knype Wakes Sunday. Ellis
could drive; he could just drive. His father had
always steadfastly refused to keep horses, but the
fathers of other dogs were more progressive, and Ellis
had had opportunities. He knew how to take the
reins, and get up, and give the office; indeed, he
had read a handbook on the subject. So he rook
the reins and got up, and the Wakes girl got up.

He chirruped. The mare merely backed.

’Give ’er ‘er mouth,’ said
the yardman disgustedly.

‘Oh!’ said Ellis, and slackened the reins,
and the mare pawed forward.